


Self Esteem

by persephonedream



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:14:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephonedream/pseuds/persephonedream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he was plastered, Haz became an overly friendly octopus, arms and hands everywhere, personal space a distant memory as he sprawled over Zayn’s lap and giggled into his neck, nuzzling in a way that mates didn’t normally do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self Esteem

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd nor brit picked, so forgive any mistakes. This is all fake, an illusion in my mind. I'm sure the real people are much more sensible than I've portrayed them here. Quasi song fic based on the song Self-esteem by Offspring.

Harry was so, so fucked up.  In fact, upon reflection, Zayn was pretty sure he’d never seen Hazza flying so high, but then, the younger boy had topped off a nights generous portion of Tequila with a tab of E, courtesy one of his friends from home, which Zayn had politely declined.  He figured one of them had to stay somewhat sober, and anyways, he liked taking care of Harry.

When he was plastered, Haz became an overly friendly octopus, arms and hands everywhere, personal space a distant memory as he sprawled over Zayn’s lap and giggled into his neck, nuzzling in a way that mates didn’t normally do.

Zayn knew it was just the chemicals talking, that Haz didn’t really think of him like that; he also knew that once he was sober, Harry would act as if it were no big deal and keep him at arm’s length, giving his affection to Lou or Niall or even his new bestie Grimmy, instead.  It was a game they played, upping the stakes every time Harry was drunk and lonely.  Zayn knew, deep inside, he should put a stop to this; still, he had been infatuated with the younger lad long enough to be helpless against the onslaught of such focused affection.

Sitting in Harry’s lounge, music weaved around them, threaded through with the low murmur of conversation.  Harry’s mates, up from home to visit, were mostly all crashed or on the verge, leaving him and Haz cuddled in an oversized chair in the dim light.

Hot breath bathed his neck, and he shivered, tightening the grip he had on Harry’s waist.  Mouthing at his neck, Harry squirmed, wiggling until he was straddling Zayn’s lap, ass firmly planted on his dick.  Green eyes heavy, he smiled that slow sweet, dimpled grin Zayn loved.

“You should take me to bed; I’m wasted.”

Zayn bit back a groan.   Harry didn’t mean it like that, he told himself.  At best, the lad would grace him with a few kisses before passing out.  That was the routine—a few gropes, maybe a snog, and then it would be lights out, cuddles until morning.

Gripping Harry under the thighs, he pushed up, staggering slightly under the boy’s weight as Harry wrapped his legs around his waist, and buried his face in Zayn’s neck.  Luckily the bedroom wasn’t far—Zayn wasn’t exactly sober, even if he hadn’t reached Harry’s level of inebriation.

Letting go, he dropped Harry onto the bed, smiling at his uncontrollable laughter as he kicked the door shut and flipped the lock.  Moonlight filtered through a broken blind, and he didn’t bother with lights, simply stripped to his boxers before climbing onto the mattress.  Instantly, Harry was on him, wrapping around him, murmuring his name lazily.

“Can’t get my shirt off. Help a lad out, yeah?”

A slow form of torture, maybe, but Zayn wasn’t bitching as he slipped soft cotton up to reveal toned abs and pale skin.  Lingering after he’d tossed the shirt, he slid his palms slowly over muscular arms and down, flicking the button of Haz’s trousers open and helping him to wiggle out of the tight material until they were both clad only in pants, facing each other.

Harry made the first move, of course; it was one of the rules of this game, that Zayn would never push, but let Harry lead the way.  A wide palmed hand covered his waist, drawing him close, and then their lips met.  No chaste kiss was this, but rather tongues licking lewdly, lips sealing together, capturing the small breaths, the ragged moans, as their bodies created a delicious friction.

This was familiar ground, and Zayn reveled in it, even knowing it would end soon, leaving him aching and frustrated, with the largest case of blue balls ever.  However, this time, Harry deviated from the routine.  Panting, he pulled back from the kiss, his hand cupping Zayn’s erection gently.

“Wanna suck you.”

The three words were so unexpected, Zayn froze, unable to respond.  However, Harry seemed to take that as a yes, sliding down, his hot breath against Zayn’s boxers, mouthing him through the cloth, until Zayn was moaning out loud.

“Please, Zayn?”  Harry looked wide eyed and a little desperate, his breathy plea shooting down Zayn’s spine.

“Yeah. Yes. Fuck, yes, please Haz.”

As if anyone would turn Harry down?  Zayn couldn’t imagine such a world—and then he ceased to think as Harry slid his pants down and proceeded to suck him in, not stopping until his nose hit Zayn’s skin.  Clearly, the lad had some practice at this. 

Trying hard not to writhe, Zayn could feel the tendons in his neck tighten with strain, Harry’s tongue wiggling against his dick.  When Harry grabbed his hand and guided it to his curls, it barely registered.  Something inside him just clicked, and he threaded both hands through silky hair, staring down as he began to thrust up into Harry’s mouth. 

It must have been the right move, because Harry instantly closed his eyes and began to suck, throat constricting around Zayn until he really, really couldn’t help it, coming quick with Harry’s name on his lips. 

As if reluctant to let go of a treat, Harry continued to suck and lick until Zayn shivered with the intensity of it, and then he was up, hand on his own dick.  As Zayn watched, he jerked himself frantically, head thrown back, the arch of his neck so fucking beautiful it was unreal.  And when he climaxed, god, the look on his face was one Zayn knew, bone deep, he’d keep in his head forever.

Weak, sticky, he watched in a daze as Harry leaned down to lick his own cum off of Zayn’s stomach, feeding it to him in the next moment in a kiss that was more intimate than anything they’d previously shared.  Finally, the younger man cuddled in and sighed.

“Was good. M’tired.”

Stroking a hand through sweaty curls, Zayn simply nodded.  “Yeah. Sleepy time.”

As if that were all the permission needed, Harry was out like a light and Zayn, sated, followed soon after.

 

**

 

Mornings after were never awkward with Harry, but mostly because Zayn refused to let them be.  Then again, they’d never almost fucked before either, so when he woke alone, sun shining through that damned blind right in his face, it was almost a relief.  From the kitchen came faint scents of bread toasting and bacon frying and the murmur of conversation, telling him they weren’t alone. 

That in itself was probably a good thing—Zayn found it much easier to pretend not to be in love with Harry when they were surrounded by people.  Even though the lads all knew, they let him be, let him hide, never pushing.

Getting up, he felt sticky and stale and decided on a quick shower, throwing on a pair of Harry’s shorts and a tee when he was done.  One more little secret to keep, just how much he liked wearing Hazza’s clothes.  It was a boyfriendish thing to do, and gave Zayn just that extra support he needed to go out and face whomever was making Harry laugh like a loon in the kitchen.

“Zayn!  You arise, and look like shit! What happened to beauty sleep, mate?” Lou about tackled him, jumping on his back as he entered the room, and Zayn could only laugh, finally wrestling the smaller lad onto the counter and depositing him there.

“Fuck off, I need tea.”

Looking around, he was surprised to see the whole crew of them—and Grimmy.  Harry’s friends from the night before seemed to have pissed off already and the counter top was piled with what looked like all the bacon and sausage in the world.

Laughing, Liam handed him a cup and they shared a smile as Zayn took a tiny sip.  Li was the only one, really, who he’d ever talked to about Harry and these oh so inconvenient feelings of his.

“Fill a plate, mate; see how I rhymed that?”  Harry’s grin was cheesy as he proceeded to shove food in his mouth at the same time, and Zayn knew, he really did, that he shouldn’t find it charming.

Biting back a sigh he did as directed and began to fill his plate, glancing up to find Louis, Li and Niall in a heated debate about something, Harry munching away cheerfully, and Grimmy staring directly at him, head cocked, looking thoughtful.

Zayn and Grimmy were not, to put it mildly, close.  In fact, in many ways Zayn didn’t like the older man at all—at first, seeing him as a threat, then, once he realized the two were totally platonic, disapproving of the wild antics he goaded Harry into.  So being the subject of Nick's undivided attention was a bit disconcerting.

"Oi, Grimmy you trying to memorize Zayner's face or what?" 

Thankfully, that shifted Nick's gaze off Zayn and onto Harry, mumbling through his mouthful. 

"Not at all, young Harold. Actually, I was trying to figure something out."

Harry swallowed, looking intrigued, as he usually did when Grimmy started on one of his ideas.  Zayn, on the other hand, had a bad feeling that whatever the man was going to say wouldn’t be pleasant.  Reaching for his pack of cigarettes, he was about to excuse himself when Grimmy continued, and he was rooted in spot.

"Well, I guess why a bloke who is as good looking as your Zayn here lets you jerk him around like a toy on a string."

The room stilled, Harry with his mouth half open and eyes locked on Grimmy's, the dripping of the faucet the only noise to be heard.

"What? I don’t do that. Not at all. Bugger off, Grimmy."

"You make plans with him then never show up; you fuck around with his friends--that was you I saw making out with Ant two weeks ago, wasn’t it? You show up on his doorstep in the middle of the night, pissed, for a booty call.  What the fuck would you call it? If Zayn here were my friend, I'd kick your arse for treating him in such a manner. Luckily he's not, as I'm quite lazy this morning.  Anyways, must be a self-esteem issue; that or the poor sod is in love with you."

The room literally exploded, with Lou and Li physically holding a shouting Niall from clawing Grimmy's eyes out and Harry loudly defending himself.  Zayn just stood there, watching, smokes cradled in his palm, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.  Laid bare like that, it was clear just how pathetic he'd been, and now Harry would know, and this whatever it was would end between them.  No more lazy mornings, no more cuddles or kisses, no more Harry.

Suddenly, he had to move, to get out, and he shoved past them all, going to the veranda and slipping outside to light a cig with shaky hands.  He'd smoked two down to the filter before silence reigned in the apartment, and yet he still had no desire to go inside.  If only he could fly, just jump off and glide down to the road and escape the awkwardness to come.  Still, never one to be a coward, he tentatively opened the glass door and slipped into silence, the lads and Grimmy seemingly gone, the faint smell of morning fry up now making him feel queasy. 

Stepping into the bedroom to change he found Harry, standing by the bed, staring at him with an inscrutable look in those wide green eyes.  The whole thing made him feel unbearably tired, like slipping back under the sheets for the next day or two. Or forever.  Instead, he moved into the bathroom to gather his things and brush his teeth.  When he returned, Harry still hadn’t moved, and Zayn really couldn’t take this silence, he just couldn’t.

"I'm just going to........go then.  I'll see you around, yeah?"

Harry blinked, then frowned grabbing at him as he tried to walk by.  "What? No, wait a minute.  We need to talk."

Talk.  Zayn's least favorite four letter word.  "No, we don’t, okay? Whatever Grimmy's got in his head, it’s his deal.  Things are fine; nothing has changed, in fact, since yesterday.  So let’s just leave it be, yeah?"

Shaking his head adamantly, unruly curls flopping everywhere, Harry's grip tightened and Zayn resigned himself to not getting free until the other lad had said his piece.

Fine. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he looked up, clearly waiting.  "So talk."

After a deep breath, Harry sat next to him.  "You say nothing has changed, but it has; because I didn’t realize, you know, that I've been such a twat. I never, ever meant to treat you like that Zayn.  But Nick's right, I've taken you for granted. A lot. And it’s a total shit thing to do to a friend.  I'm so, so sorry."

Zayn's heart only squeezed a little at the word "friend", and he managed a pretty genuine smile.  "Apology accepted. I told you, no big deal, yeah? We're good Haz."

Wanting nothing more than to leave, now, before things got even more complicated, Zayn leaned in and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek.  "I really should go.  I'll see you in the morning, right?"

Harry trailed him to the door, frowning.  Finally, at the last moment, as Zayn was about to exit, he said, "Zayn?"

Shit.

"Yeah Harry?"

A long pause and then, "You don’t normally have self-esteem issues."

"No, Harry."

Another pause and Zayn really couldn’t stand it anymore; he met Harry's eyes, seeing the question before he asked it.  "So what Nick said--is that--are you in love with me?"

"Probably, Harry."

The silence was longer this time as Harry seemed to be working through some issue of his own.  Zayn gripped the doorknob tightly, ready to flee.

"Okay. Probably is good, I can work with that.  Gives me time to catch up, yeah?"

Hand going limp, Zayn just stared at him, taking in the sparkle in his eyes, the dimples, the overall look of happiness as he closed the gap between them, and felt a stirring of hope as Harry opened his arms and enveloped Zayn in a tight embrace.

"Yeah Harry.  Probably is very good."

 

 

 

 


End file.
